They told me I was sick,

Sick, of the mind; a trick of brain.

Humanity’s shame stain,

My madness gone insane, for shame! Dancing naked, to blame, Or the skull I do claim, and hold.

Killer I am not, or cold,

My lover lost, who I hold and keep. Next to me in my sleep,

I cry in dead arms deep, with grief.

They told me I was sick,

Sick in death’s soul’s hot lick, hold fast. Hold to my heart love’s last,

His warmth disappears fast, in death. I cling to his head’s breath, and soak, In his dry blood’s stained cloak.

No care for word of folk, just him. Eaten each part and limb, Sanity sung in hymn, parted.

They told me I was sick,

His corpse taken too quick, flies fly.

Injected until high,

Strapped, lust’s wicked sigh, he strapped.

Punished wrongs with a slap,

His harsh belt stripped and clapped, then tied.

Something in me has died,

Our stark love could not hide, in death.

They told me I was sick, Desperate for a lick, in grief.

Jacket tied, our love brief,

Locked away, doctor’s chief, insane. They told me I’m insane,

For keeping love in vain, waiting.

Ever waiting for my king,

Imprisoned for sin,

The sin, after death, Of keeping close to him.